


Cocktail, Ginger Ale

by Rachael Sabotini (wickedwords)



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Community: atlantis_lvw, Daily life on Atlantis, Humor, M/M, the prodigal returns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-08-31
Updated: 2006-08-31
Packaged: 2018-03-20 12:23:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3650217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wickedwords/pseuds/Rachael%20Sabotini
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Nice to have you back, Colonel Pants-Be-Gone."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cocktail, Ginger Ale

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written for the _Last Visible Writer_ game, prompt 'Mistaken Identity'. Thank you to zoe rayne and sherrold for doing the beta.

After Sheppard was captured, Rodney spent a lot of time in the control room. So when "Incoming wormhole" rumbled out of the duty tech, Rodney jerked back, almost banging his head on the control panel he was working on in the process. Elizabeth came running from her office to look as well, just as the tech glanced up from the panel and pressed the shield button. 

"Opening the shield."

It had to be Sheppard. It had to. Rodney's stomach felt like someone had punched him, worse than it felt the day Lorne's team brought back Sheppard's uniform and dog tags. No one else was off world at the moment; they were all in Atlantis, sifting through the information they'd gathered to try and pin down where to find him. Elizabeth put her hand on Rodney's arm; for reassurance or support, he wasn't sure. 

"It's Colonel Sheppard's IDC." The whole room broke out clapping, with a collective sigh of relief. 

"About time!" Rodney snapped, heading down the gateroom steps, Elizabeth a half-step behind him. But the sight of the lean figure that stepped through the gate brought him up short. 

Zelenka's return from M7G-677 had nothing on this. Feathers and extreme body paint seemed to have been the fashion wherever he'd been. At least there were no visible signs of injury, other than an atrocious taste in color. "Nice to have you back, Colonel Pants-Be-Gone." 

Sheppard grinned. "Good to see you too, Rodney. Elizabeth." He nodded his head at her, beaming as he looked around the room. "It's good to be back." 

* * *

The debriefing was in Elizabeth's office, once Carson gave his okay and Lorne brought Sheppard some pants. His hair was wet, yet sticking up even worse than usual. Rodney would never have believed it possible if he hadn't seen it first hand. 

"So you're saying that they thought you were Rodney?" Elizabeth folded her hand on the desk in front of her. "I find that hard to believe, if they were working from the old Genii photos of you." 

"Apparently, they got the names kind of mixed up, so they were just looking for the team's leader." Sheppard glanced at Rodney and lifted his eyebrows. "They figured that whoever the leader was would be the brilliant scientist they were supposed to capture." 

"Which is why they picked you," Rodney snorted.

"Exactly." John leaned an arm over the back of his chair and grinned. "I am the team leader." 

"So what did they do when they noticed that you can't boil water?" 

"Ah," John said. "They didn't want me to boil water. They wanted me to build them a nuke." 

"A nuke?" Elizabeth looked stunned. "John, you can't—"

"I know, I know. No nuclear weapons proliferation in the Pegasus galaxy. I did get the memo on that." He scratched at the edge of the table. "Besides, I don't know how to build one." 

"So what did you do?" She asked.

"I built them a still instead." He shrugged as Rodney stared at him. Unbelievable. "They didn't know the difference." 

"Instead of a nuclear weapon, you gave them a dry martini?"

"Pretty much. Pickling the onions was the tricky part." John pursed his lips. "They didn't have any olive-things." 

Elizabeth couldn't keep a smile from seeping out onto her face. "You turned their weapons research lab into a...wet bar." 

"Hey, you should have seen what they were drinking before! They had these goat-things that they'd milk, and then let the stuff go sour—" 

"Stop," Rodney said. "I don't think my stomach can take it."

Pushing aside her laptop, Elizabeth leaned back in her chair. "I think that's all I need to know for now. If you think of anything else—" 

"I'll email you."

"Sounds good. Rodney? Anything else?"

"No, no. I think my reputation is ruined enough." He followed John closely, out into the walkway, through corridors, into the transporter, and right to the hallway outside John's quarters. 

"Look, they loved it, okay? And I did try to tell them they had the wrong guy, but they didn't believe me." John touched the panel outside his room and the door slide open. "But it worked out okay in the end." 

The door slid shut, and Rodney pressed his hand against John's chest, pushing him against the wall and weaving their legs together. Oh, yeah. He'd missed this. "So why did they let you go?" he asked, and dropped a kiss on John's neck. 

"It...exploded." John tilted his head, giving Rodney better access; Rodney could feel his pulse hammering under his skin. "After a big, all night party, and, well, while they tried to figure out if I had made a bomb for them after all, they kind of left the gate...unguarded. So I figured hey, it was a good time to come home." He ran a hand down Rodney's arm and sighed. "Besides, all I could make was gin." 

Rodney pulled back just enough that he could look into John's eyes. "You are insane, you know." 

"Maybe a little." He arched up against Rodney and sighed contentedly. "And you are a man of many skills. Did you know that you make the best Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster in the galaxy?" He pulled Rodney down, wrapping his hand around the back of Rodney's neck. "That's why I had to come home."


End file.
